One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, FLOOR
by Ashley.X.Rose
Summary: What happens when the Losers have some time off and decide to go out drinking? Silly little ONESHOT that popped into my head. Hope you enjoy. Rated M for mild language. R


There was a very valid reason as to why the Losers didn't go out drinking as a group very often. Tonight was the prime example of that reason.

The plan had been simple, blow off steam.

It probably would have worked if it wasn't for the fact that Jensen's 'motor mouthing', as Roque often called it, doubled whenever he consumed even the slightest amount of alcohol.

The first bar was probably the most normal stop of the night. Clay had been the one to go to the bar to order drinks for everyone before all five soldiers crammed into a four person booth. It was hard for them to talk about anything other than special ops, so Jensen asked Roque if he'd ever tried it with a guy.

Cougar was the one who stopped him hitting the tech over the head with an empty bottle.

The second bar was a bit more upbeat. Stronger drinks; louder music; good looking women. A guy at the bar gave Jensen his number before Cougar swiftly dragged him to the opposite end of the premises.

This amused Pooch. Roque thought it was 'fucking gay'.

Five drinks later, Jensen got Roque onto the dance floor. Cougar thought he danced like an 80s rock star. Jensen acted as if it were the coolest thing Roque had ever done, although to be honest it probably was.

Leaving the 'Roquetheque' bar, as Jensen had so drunkenly named it, all five men were slightly tipsy. The most obvious evidence of this being Jensen trying to get a piggy back off Pooch, and Pooch letting him.

The third bar is where things got interesting.

Interesting obviously meaning problematic.

Jensen, Roque and Pooch started doing shots. Clay and Cougar sensibly stuck to beers.

After seven shots, Jensen thought every women at the bar was out to seduce him, much to the annoyance of their significant others. It took three annoyed boyfriends surrounding Jensen for Cougar to drag him away and Clay to issue a very firm "Back off." to all that threatened their youngest member.

When one of them ignored this and threatened to "Cut that little geek's dick off", they thought it may be in Jensen's best interest to leave, despite Jensen's rebuke of "You cut one head off and three more grow back!"

It was a little past midnight at this point and no one remained even the slightest bit sober. Approaching the next bar, Jensen had turned to Cougar for support, Pooch couldn't stop laughing at Roque's drunken 'gangster lean' and Clay was just hoping they would be allowed in to another bar.

They were.

After half an hour, Clay started wishing the bouncer had turned them away.

Roque and Pooch started a drinking competition with some random guys at the bar. Clay and Cougar started doing shots themselves. The sniper silently kept watch upon Jensen who was dancing with about five different women at the same time. The tech could barely stand.

When Jensen pulled one of his many dancing women into a kiss, he was dragged off the women by an angry husband. Clay punched the dude square in the face when he dared raise a hand to Jensen, Cougar dropped his bottle as to not smash it over the guys head.

That's when they decided they'd done enough drinking, and decided they needed something to eat.

Roque fancied a cheeseburger, Pooch fancied bacon, Clay fancied a Twinkie, Cougar didn't really fancy anything. Jensen fancied a blueberry muffin and a cup of coffee.

It only took them twenty minutes to find a suitable all-night diner that catered for all of their needs. Jensen thought the waitress was hot. The waitress was about fifty years old.

"I want a cheeseburger." Jensen announced as soon as the waitress placed his muffin in front of him.

Roque could have argued, but he knew it would have been pointless so he swapped with the drunken Jensen. Jensen's smile could have lit up the whole room.

At 3am, the soldiers decided it best to head home.

"Taxi!"

Jensen trying to flag down a taxi would have been helpful if their were any taxi's in sight. So far he'd shouted "Taxi!" at two bike riders, four street police officers, a pizza delivery bike and a pigeon.

After ten minutes and two very aggravated alley cats, Clay decided that instead of waiting for a taxi to show up, it'd be better to phone for one.

"Home please, Mr Taxi." announced Jensen as the five of them crammed into the taxi. The taxi driver seemed less than impressed until Clay slipped him a hundred and told him to keep the change.

He and Jensen then exchanged life stories for the whole ride home.

"Never again." sighed Clay once everyone but he and Roque were in bed.

For some reason Roque thought 3:30am was a good time to do some press-ups. Clay just shrugged and left him to it.

"It's official," the Colonel thought to himself as he stripped down to his boxers and collapsed on his bed, "Drinks with the team is more head-hurtingly stressful than a special ops mission on the front line."

His last conscious thought, "I'm _never _touching tequila again!"


End file.
